Page 181 of Vasmora

I slowly lowered my arm to find a lattice of interlocking bones woven across my forearm. Like a shield.

She scrambled toward me again, on hands and knees, but instead of trying to get away, I met her head on.

Scales scraped at my back, as I slid toward Raivox’s shoulder and clutched her throat, summoning the death glyph. Pale flesh dissolved to ash, carried off by a gust of wind. Once she’d completely disappeared, I turned onto my stomach, catching my breath. Below us, I caught a glimpse of Zevander’s scorpion barreling toward the horde, and as I watched in horror, they surrounded the men below.

Adira flew up alongside me. “Are you okay!” she called out.

“I’m fine! Take as many as you can from the sky! I’m going to the ground!” I cried, despite the anxious gurgling in my chest, and Adira gave a sharp nod, leaning forward as she urged Achlys up into the sky.

With shaky breaths, I clawed my way back to the horns, to find Raivox gliding in a circle over the horde.

“Down, Raivox!” I ordered, pressing my knees against his scales.

The Corvugon swooped and hovered a moment, tearing through the mob with a torrent of liquid metal. He landed in the thick of them, crushing them beneath his talons, and snapped one of them up with his beak. Spiders scampered around us, and Raivox pecked at the ground with his hooked beak to gobble them up.

On the other side of Raivox, Viatrix landed with a hard thud and swiped two into his mouth, gulping them back with a crackle of chitin.

I held tight to Raivox’s horn, waiting for the moment I could safely jump down from his back and join the fight.

A humanoid stormed toward us, teeth bared. Before it reached us, Raivox dragged it up into his maw, and the crunch of bones sent a shiver up my spine as he swallowed it back.

A streak of black swung my attention the other way, where a bear-sized mutation chased after Gavroche.

“There! That one!”

As the arachnid closed in on the boy, Raivox hopped two steps forward and swiped it up by the leg, tossing it into the air. The spider’s legs flailed in a futile attempt to get away from the rows of sharp teeth as Raivox chomped down on it. Gavroche scampered off, hiding behind an overturned wagon.

In glancing back for Zevander, I spied Lothare rushing toward a half-dozen humanoids and spiders, my stomach clenching as he charged with his single weapon. He ground to a halt mere inches from the beasts and swung out, a flicker catching the corner of my eye. In a single blink, a dozen of him spawned outward, forming a line of clones.

I blinked again and shook my head, wondering if I’d knocked it too hard with all that jostling in the air.

In one unified stroke, the clones lashed their blades and, in a single swing, managed to wound multiple creatures at once—lopping off the leg of a spider, slicing through the belly of another, the head of a humanoid, the arm of another humanoid. Like Lothare’s own small army.

A spider punched its long-tusked fangs into the skull of a clone, and it burst into smoke, leaving the other copies of himself to fight.

Mouth hanging in awe, I watched him tear through the line of creatures like soldiers in battle.

A bellow of pure agony rang out, and Raivox flinched, jerking me out of my staring.

I snapped my attention toward the cottage behind us, where the mutations clustered around the healer and her husband, swarming them like insects. Instinct drove me to help them, but the sight of severed human limbs sticking up from the mass of chitinous bodies told me it was too late. The wet sound of tearing meat curled my stomach, as the husband’s head breached the swarm, passing over the frenzied bodies, until it tumbled onto the grass beside them.

Zevander strode toward them, light flashing across his outstretched palm, and in one glorious sweep of his flame, he set the cluster ablaze. Some shriveled to black stones, while others managed to escape the fire, only to be quickly scavenged by Viatrix.

“More on the hill!” Lothare called out.

Still astride Raivox, my body lurched as the Corvugon charged toward the knoll, and with a blast of heat, he unleashed an arc of silver that sliced through the air like a liquid blade toward the half-dozen mutations advancing down the hill’s slope. The silver hardened quickly, their bodies frozen mid-step. Raivox stilled long enough for me to climb down from his back, and the moment my boots hit the ground, I summoned my bone whip.

Seconds ticked.

Three more crested the knoll, skirting the creatures Raivox had turned to statues as they charged down the hill.

A bulbous-bellied humanoid sprang toward me, and I lashed my whip, splitting it open for the small spiders that poured out onto the grass. Both Corvugons leapt for them, and the other two humanoids scattered, one of them heading toward Gavroche’s hiding spot. I struck again, and in one snap, it’s spine burst through its back in shattered pieces across the lawn. The creature collapsed and twitched.

“Bloody hell, that’s disgusting,” Corwin said, meeting my side.

A spider scampered to intercept us, and I lurched forward, but not before he drove his sword downward into the mutation’s neck, turning his head when it popped and an explosion of dust flew up at his face.

He coughed, brushing his hand over his nose. “I hate inhaling them.”